Wedding Vows: A Collection of 12 Oneshots
by Thnx4theGum
Summary: A collection of 12 oneshots drawn from the words used in traditional marriage vows. Spans all the years of Booth and Brennan's life as a married couple. ALL CHAPTERS NOW POSTED. Please review!
1. To Have

Ok, so this whole thing started with one itty-bitty oneshot that had been bumping around my head since I last saw "The Woman in Limbo". That oneshot is now "Identity." So from there I decided to do little oneshots on each part of the traditional marriage vows. They won't be chronological really, but will jump around, covering snapshots throughout their life together. I'm ADD like that and need something to focus me. Hope you enjoy.

I'd like to dedicate this series to my friend Linny and her new hubby, Colby. May y'all find as much happiness in marriage as my hubby and I have-and may you continue to write awesome fan fic!

Disclaimer: The only bones I own are my own, the rest I'm just playing with for fun.

This first one is "To Have". I've always thought it'd be funny to see Booth and Bones house shopping. I meant for it to be shorter, but they proved to be more entertaining than I thought so I went with it.

To Have

"Well Bones, what do you think?" Booth grinned as he and his partner stepped out of their SUV.

He gestured toward the house that they had stopped in front of. After a year of marriage they had decided it was time to go house hunting.

"Does it look like 'The One' to you?"

"I'm not certain," she smiled, "after all, we haven't even seen the inside yet. It would be impossible for me to ascertain if this is 'The One' by simply looking at the exterior."

Booth walked around to her, taking a hold of her shoulders and steering her toward the house. "It's like I've told you, Bones, just because you say it in that superior tone, doesn't mean it means _anything_ to me." He waggled his eyebrows knowingly, "Just give it a chance, alright?"

She smiled and nodded, then removed herself from his grasp and moved toward the real estate agent who was standing at the door waiting for them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Booth?" the agent proffered her hand, "My name is Leslie Banks. We spoke on the phone. Are you ready to see her?"

Bones looked quizzically at the agent, "I wasn't aware that we were meeting anyone else, Mrs. Banks. And yes, we're Dr. Temperance Brennan-Booth and Special Agent Seeley Booth."

"She means the house, Bones," Booth said out of the corner of his mouth, "And do you _have_ to bring up the doctorate every time? Seems kinda prideful to me."

"But Booth," Bones began, turning away from the real estate agent to face her husband, "she did ask if we were Mr. and Mrs. Booth," she hurried before he could cut her off, "And, I told her your job status as well as my own. Special Agent Seeley Booth. Special. Just like you always point out to whatever underlings we encounter at a crime scene. It _would_ have been prideful had I only mentioned my job status and not yours. However I did include you." She folded her arms across her chest and gave him a triumphant look, daring him to challenge her reasoning.

"It was a rhetorical question, Bones, who else would show up for our appointment with her?" He shook his head at how literal she was being, then reminded himself that she was always this literal. "Do you _have _to be so literal all of the time? And underlings, _really_? I don't think that the cops and CSIs that show up to help us would like it if they knew you refer to them as _underlings_! Now _that _is definitely a prideful thing to say. So am I your underling too?"

She shook her head, "Of course not, Booth, we're partners." She shot him a sly grin, "But I do have the superior intellect."

Booth was formulating the perfect response when the real estate agent, whom both Booths had almost completely forgotten, cleared her throat.

"Shall we take a look at the house then?"

The couple nodded and the realtor took them inside. The entryway opened up to a spacious living room. Ms. Banks pointed out the new hardwood floor that the previous owners had laid down. There were built in bookshelves lining one long wall from floor to ceiling and Booth teased his wife about being able to fit her library on them. She retorted in kind that, if he behaved himself, perhaps she would allow him one of the shelves for his "graphic novels". Fearing that Ms. Banks might assume that she was referring to pornography, Dr. Brennan-Booth assured her that this was not the case and that her husband used the euphemism "graphic novels" to describe his comic book collection. A very flustered Ms. Banks suggested they move on to the kitchen and dining room area.

They managed to make it through the fairly standard dining room without incident and moved into the kitchen. The first thing that caught Booth's eye in the kitchen was the breakfast nook. The intimate space reminded him of their meals the diner and he sat down on the bench, motioning for Bones to join him. They sat arm in arm as the realtor moved around the rest of the kitchen, showing off all of the gizmos and gadgets it had to offer.

"I bet that oven will make some good mac and cheese," Booth growled softly into his wife's ear.

She punched him lightly in his gut and whispered back, "You and your mac and cheese. You're going to start putting on weight if you keep eating that all of the time. It's very high in carbohydrates you know, and they will only continue to grow harder to burn off as you age."

"Sheesh, Bones, you make it sound like I have one foot in the grave already!"

"Well you _are_ older than I-"

Leslie Banks cleared her throat again.

"If you will follow me upstairs, I can show you the bedrooms."

The Booths stood up, embarrassed that they had once more tuned out their realtor, and followed her back through to the living room. A staircase later they were in the middle of a hallway. Two bedrooms were off to their right, one was to their left and a bathroom was directly in front of them. The two rooms on the right were of modest size and Bones commented that they should allow Parker to choose which of the two he preferred for the weekends he would stay with them. Booth agreed, pleased that she cared so much for his son.

The master bedroom sat perched atop the two-car garage. Sunlight streamed in from the overhead skylight. Booth sprawled out on the floor, bringing Bones down with him, and pointed out that she could look at the stars. She nodded in agreement, but quickly pulled herself back up, not wishing to seem unprofessional in front of the realtor. They then moved into the master bathroom.

Ms. Banks pointed out the large roman bath against the far wall and Dr. Brennan-Booth blushed furiously when her husband made a comment as to what could be done in a bathtub that large. She recovered quickly, however, and asked him if he was going to store his beer-dispensing headgear on the large corner shelf. The realtor left to give them a little space.

"Did you have to bring that up?" She hissed when the realtor had left.

"Why Bones," Booth said innocently, "you're the one who's always talking about sex. And didn't you say you find my 'lack of Puritan modesty refreshing'?"

"Yes, and I do, but not in front of Agent Banks."

"Well then, I will try and behave myself," he held up a finger to ward off any response, "Now before we forget our poor realtor again, I propose we move on."

Bones playfully shoved his finger aside and bushed past him, "Alright, let's, though you really shouldn't end your sentences with a preposition, you know. It's not grammatically proper."

Booth rolled his eyes and clamped down hard on his tongue, not wanted to bicker again in front of Ms. Banks.

They found the agent waiting patiently for them down in the living room. Following her lead they headed down a small staircase that led into a mud room which connected the house to the garage. A laundry room and a second bathroom were also on that floor. The Booths nodded politely as Ms. Banks showed them around. However when she opened what looked to be a closet door, they were both surprised to see a semi-finished, and rather large, tiled basement that opened up to the back yard via sliding glass doors.

"Now this," Booth said grandly, "is a Man Room!"

Bones rolled her eyes.

"That is such an alpha-male statement," she teased.

Booth, however, was busy envisioning what he would do with the room.

"I could put my weights over there, the poker table can go in that corner, and a big comfy chair is going right here."

"You mean one of those Lazy Man chairs you've been looking at," his wife inquired.

"That's 'Lazy _BOY_' chair, Bones," he corrected, "and yeah, that's exactly what I'm talking about, complete with a cup holder, mini-fridge and universal remote. We can get a big ol' corner couch for company too."

Bones sighed, "I assume that wall is where the large television will go?"

Booth's eyes gleamed like a little boy at Christmas, "Oh yeah, Baby! We'll get a sixty-inch high-def, hook up a big surround sound system to it, and go to town." He put his arm around his wife and looked down at her with a grin, "We'll get you all caught up on post-70's pop culture in no time, Bones!"

The realtor smiled at the couple, not really minding being left out this time. She waited until they were done examining the basement, then announced that the tour of the house was complete. She took them outside to inspect the yard.

A brick patio extended half the length of the house and about five feet out from it. Above them a small deck came off of the upstairs dining room, and a wooden swing had been hung from it.

"I'll just leave you two here to decide," Ms. Banks told the Booths, "I'll be around front when you're done."

Booth pulled Bones into the swing and held her for a moment before asking, "So what do you think?"

Bones rested her head on his shoulder and sighed.

"I don't know what to think, Booth. I mean, I've never lived in a house since, well-"

"Since your parents left," he said softly.

She nodded, then struggled to convey what she was feeling.

"After my parents left I didn't have very many things, and what few possessions I owned were tossed in a plastic bag that I carried around with me. I've lived in foster homes and dormitory rooms and apartments ever since then. Even my grandfather lived in an apartment," she leaned into him further, "A house is a _huge_ step, Booth. A house to me is something more permanent than an apartment. It's a big thing to have. When I- When we move the next time, I want it to be the last time I have to move. I guess in some ways I'm afraid I'll never find 'The One'; that I'll never really feel at home anywhere."

"Buildings don't make homes," Booth soothed, stroking her hair, "People do. And whether it's this house or our apartment, or some other house down the line, you'll always have a home, Bones. Right here," he patted his chest, "With me. "

"Egotistical alpha-male," Bones murmured tenderly.

She turned around to look Booth in the eye.

"Do you like it Booth?"

"I do, Temperance," he answered, meeting her gaze, "But I want this to be something that both of us can get behind, not just something that I want."

She stood up and offered her hand to him, "Well then, let's go get her."

"Ms. Banks?" Booth asked, a bit confused.

"No, the house," her eyes gleamed up at him, "Do you always have to take things so literally, Booth?"

Booth grinned, "I'll try not to from now on, Mrs. Booth. But I will get you in that bathtub!"

She threw back her head and laughed, then put her hand in his, and they walked toward the future they would have together- toward their home.

Coming up next: "To Hold"

Like it? Love it? Hate it? Please let me know :O) The whole series is finished, so let me know if I should post the whole thing.

plz;thnx;

Gum


	2. To Hold

To Hold

Dr. Temperance Brennan was not a physically attentive person by nature. The first time she had purposefully touched Booth had been to comfort him. She had put her hand on his thigh and he, in turn, had taken her hand into his. After that, they began to reach out to each other more often; his hand on the small of her back, her hand on his shoulder.

Before she realized it, she was hugging him. Not in a romantic way, of course, her empirical mind would not allow for romance, however the closer they became as partners, the more instinctively her body would turn to him to be held. It frustrated her to be so dependent on him, and she tried to explain it, and the warm feeling she would get in her heart, away. He shrugged it off too, telling her that he would do the same if he was scared; convincing her that they were like "guy hugs" and nothing more. Neither of them would admit how much those hugs meant, but each embrace lasted a little bit longer and each one meant a little more. And every time he held her, another piece of her carefully constructed emotional barrier fell.

Then came the kissing. First was her impulsive peck on his cheek when he allowed Russ time with Hailey and Amy at the hospital before arresting him. Next, the kiss under the mistletoe to satisfy Caroline's puckishness and secure the conjugal visit trailer for her family to have Christmas together. She had almost kissed him again in the back of his SUV after they had delivered baby Andy to his new family, but had squelched the impulse and put the pacifier in his mouth instead. Kisses were different than hugs. They, and all of the feelings they dredged up, could not be so easily explained away. Guys did not have "guy kisses", even friends did not go around kissing one another (although Brennan reminded herself that in some European cultures a kiss on the cheek was quite acceptable between friends). Kissing, especially kissing on the lips, was something that men and women did to express their affection for one another. And after the kiss under the mistletoe, even she had to admit that she was doing something more than merely satisfying a biological urge.

Brennan also found that as she and Booth grew closer, they could hold each other with only their eyes. Across the table at the diner, in front of their colleagues at the lab, and at the end of a long, grueling case in which feelings could not be expressed by words alone, Booth and Brennan could connect with their eyes. In fact, there were times when their eyes would meet and the connection was more powerful than any physical touch, so much so that it would frighten her and she would be unable to cope with the feelings just one look evoked. Angela might call it ocular intercourse, or some other such title, but Brennan knew in her heart that his eyes had become every bit as much her lifeline as his strong arms that wrapped around her.

Angela had once told her that she would know when the right time to touch Booth would be. Ange was always right. So when Dr. Brennan's genius IQ had finally caught up with what her heart had felt for so long, it nearly overpowered her. And as the sun set on their first day as husband and wife, Dr. Temperance Brennan-Booth smiled as she lay in his arms. After all that they had been through together she was finally ready to be held, and to hold him as well.

"We are the center," Booth whispered in her ear as they drifted off to sleep.

She finished the old thought with a soft smile, "And the center must hold."


	3. For Better

AN: I don't think it was ever mentioned how many ppl Booth had shot as a sniper so I made up my own number.

For Better

"Well, Bones, that does it," Seeley Booth swung open her door and plopped himself and a manila folder full of paperwork onto the desk in his wife's office at the Jeffersonian.

"That does what, Booth?" she said, playfully shoving him off of the stack of papers he had sat down on top of.

Booth stood up and pointed to the manila folder, "Once we turn in this baby, we'll have officially convicted our 107th bad guy." He grinned broadly, "Not bad, eh Bones?"

She shook her head, "I still don't get it. What makes this paperwork any more important significant that the other one hundred and six cases?"

He looked intently into her eyes, "Because, Bones, this means that I've now officially met my goal. You know, to put away as many baddies as I sniped. I believe you once called it my penance." He opened his arms to her and she fell in as if she had been custom-fit. "And you, my dear Temperance, were extremely instrumental in that process."

She smiled up at him from his arms, "I told you I wanted to help."

"Oh you have Bones, you have."

"Booth, did you ever think that we would get married back then? You know, back when I offered to help?"

"To be honest, Bones, no," he put up his hand to keep her from interrupting, "Of course I was seeing someone else at the time, and certain people were also telling me that marriage was an archaic institution and that all love consists of is our bodies' need to satisfy our biological urges and something about neurons that I never really understood." He cupped her face in his hands and made sure she knew he was being sincere, "I'm glad I was wrong."

A few years ago she would have blushed furiously and squirmed under the intense emotions passing between them. But two years of marriage had taught her how to accept love as well as how to give it in turn.

"I'm glad you were wrong too," she smirked, not passing up the opportunity to tease him.

"Ha ha," he returned, setting her loose with a quick kiss before turning to leave the office. "Well, I've got a meeting with Cullen in a half hour, so you just get working on your half of that paperwork and meet me at home for a mac n' cheese celebration. It's the start of a whole new era, Bones!"

As the door closed, Temperance returned to her desk and stared at the paperwork Booth had left for her. She had assumed this would be easier, but apparently it would not be. She thought back to the people she and Booth had been all those years ago when they had begun working toward their goal.

At first, she had seen Booth as a means to an end. She wanted full participation in the cases she was forced to work on for the FBI- and a chance to get out of her lab and onto the field- and Booth was willing to take her. Oh sure, she'd had to blackmail him into it that first time, but even then she could tell that he did have a grudging respect for her talents. One which none of the other agents the FBI had sent before Booth had.

Their relationship had proceeded to grow in fits and spurts. Neither one of them had particularly wanted to open up to the other. She still shook her head that it had taken them being locked in the lab together over Christmas for her to find out about Parker, though to be honest it had taken her longer to ask him to help her investigate her parents' disappearance.

But they had endured, had become partners, then friends, then best friends, until neither of them could stand to think of living life without the other and they had finally married. She laughed silently at booth's earlier jest. It was still true that, by and large, she saw marriage as an archaic ritual that put a woman at risk emotionally and financially and left them vulnerable to a host of legal battles. She supposed that what changed her mind was finding someone she could wholly trust- she knew Booth was as loyal as the sunrise. Plus, marriage meant so much to him. Booth was a family man and she knew how much it meant to him to be married. So when he had finally gotten the courage to declare his love for her and ask her if she wanted to be more than partners, she had agreed- and proposed to him on the spot. They set a date that night.

Angela had laughed when Brennan had related the proposal story to her. She said that the two of them had been in a sexless marriage for the past four years anyway so they might as well make it official and start collecting the side benefits. Brennan really had not known what her friend was talking about, but that happened often enough that she had learned to smile and accept Angela's embrace. She did wait, however, to hug Ange until the squealing had died down.

Amazing that so many memories had sprung from her desire to get out of the lab- from her promise to aid him in doing his penance. And now, two years into their marriage, his penance had been paid, she realized as she filled out the last line and signed her name at the bottom of the paperwork. It was, as Booth had said, the end of an era. Sully had told her once that no one could stay in this line of work forever and she briefly wondered if Booth's meeting with Cullen was to tender his resignation now that his job was done. She would beat the man with a femur from Limbo if he came home tonight with key to a boat. She dismissed the thought, knowing that even if Booth did buy a boat, he would never sail off into the sunset without her.

She placed the file back in the manila folder, packed it in her bag of things to take home, and headed out the door. As she turned off the light and strode through the lab, she made a mental list of all of the ingredients she would need to pick up for Booth's mac n' cheese celebration meal. She wanted tonight to be perfect for him- for them. And when the celebration was over, she would curl up in his arms and tell him that no matter what life brought to them next, she would be right by his side for it. She would remind him that they were always better together than they had ever been apart.


	4. For Worse

For Worse

Dr. Temperance Brennan-Booth stood fuming in the middle of what her husband had termed his "Man Room". The target of her ire stood toe-to-toe with her, arms crossed, eyes boring into her. A houseful of Thanksgiving guests were assembled in the dining room above them, though they had been forgotten by their hosts at the moment.

"You. Had. No. Right," she ground out, emphasizing each word.

"I had every right," the FBI agent countered, waving his left ring finger in her face, "There are two of us in this marriage, you know!"

She flung her arms into the air in disgust.

"Marriage, _Seeley_," she threw his first name out as an insult, "does not give you the right to announce to both of our families that you intend to impregnate me! Especially when you know full well my feelings on the topic."

"Impregnate you, _Temperance_?" he flung her first name back at her, "Really? You make it sound so, so, cold!"

"Are you accusing me of being cold now too?" she could feel her blood pressure rising, "Just because I feel it is irresponsible to bring a child into this chaotic world, does not mean I don't care. And it definitely does not mean that I do not wish to have sex with you!"

"Look," he said, capturing her flailing arms with his hands and bringing his voice down a notch, "I know you care, but all I did up there was try and deflect the comments that were being made about adding on to our family. Comments that weren't just coming from my parents' end of the table, by the way."

She spun out of his grasp and folded her arms. He was correct, of course, but she still had not approved of his handling of the situation.

"You told them that we hadn't gotten started on that yet and that you were sure it would happen eventually." She brought the full weight of her gaze and voice to bear on him, "I may have conceded to marrying you, Seeley Booth, but I never changed my position on child-bearing!"

"Conceded?" he spat the word out like a curse, "If you will recall, _you_ were the one who proposed to _me_!"

"Only because you told me that you loved me and that you wanted a relationship with me," she fumed, "And the end result of a relationship with you would logically be marriage- I did that for you, Booth! I don't need some stupid piece of paper from the government telling me I had committed myself to you for the rest of our lives. YOU wanted that, and I loved you enough to give it to you. So tell me, am I supposed to compromise my views on childbearing as well?"

She picked up a knick-knack from a nearby shelf and flung it at him, then flounced on the couch.

Booth was taken aback for a minute, and then he picked up the knick-knack, crossed the gap between them and knelt down on floor in front of her. Her head was down and her shoulders had begun to shake. Apparently he had hurt her more than he intended.

"Temperance," he said softly, "Bones. Look at me."

She lifted her head a hint and allowed him to lower her onto his lap.

"Bones, I would never, ever force you to do something that you felt so strongly against," he paused, wondering how to pose his next question without setting her off again, "Do you wish we hadn't gotten married?"

She shook her head 'no', so he began stroking her hair as he continued, "Having children is a huge decision. One that I would never presume to make alone. Honestly, all I was trying to do up there was deflect their questions."

"But you said-"

"All I really said was that we need to discuss the issue and take our time before we jump into parenthood. We haven't even been married three years, you know."

She nodded and they sat there on the floor in silence.

Booth spoke first, brushing her hair back from her eyes so that they could connect again, "Do you really not want to have kids, Bones? 'Cause I thought, maybe after Andy, that you may have changed your mind a little bit?"

She fought to keep her emotions in check before answering him. "I never changed my mind, Booth, not even after Andy. As I said before, to knowingly bring a child into this chaotic world is not a responsible decision. The jobs we have, this thing we do every day of our lives, Booth, should teach us that if anything this world is a dangerous, violent place where no one is safe and where children, like Andy, can easily become victims. Raising a child is no easy task."

He cupped her face in his hands, "Deciding to raise children, Bones, doesn't necessarily mean you have to get pregnant."

"I don't know what that means."

He chuckled softly, "It means that there are all of those kids in the foster system that you always remind me about whose parents did bring them into the world and who, I'm sure, would love to become a part of a loving family."

She sniffed, and a smile began to form at the corners of her mouth as she realized that he truly would not push her into something that she didn't want; that he knew and accepted where her passions lay.

"I'm not sure we would be able to accommodate ALL of the children in the foster system, Booth," she tweaked his chin with her finger, "But I'm sure we could take in one or two of them- when the time is right."

Booth grinned, "However many you want, Bones, whenever you are ready."

"You know we'd have to alter our lifestyle in order to take on foster children," she said thoughtfully as he pulled her to her feet, "Two career-minded individuals like us would not be able to adequately provide the care and time necessary to properly raise children; especially those with emotional baggage."

"That's my Bones," Booth said, holding out the knick-knack she'd flung at him earlier, "Beautiful and smart. So have we survived our first fight?"

She nodded, fingering the Brainy Smurf he had given to her so many years ago; before she had realized how much a part of her life he had become. She faced him and raised her lips to meet his. He deepened the kiss and wrapped his arms around her as she moved to do the same. Arms, hands and mouths connected, apologizing in a way that words could not. Her hand grazed his "Cocky" belt buckle and he groaned, shoving his tongue in her mouth hard.

"Um, Tempe," Russ called from the top of the stairs, "I don't think Dad meant that you should get started on grandkids right now."

The Booths broke apart, flushed, then shared a private glance and herded Russ back up to the dining room and their waiting company.


	5. For Richer

For Richer

Seeley Booth was not amused. Here he was, in his own SUV, bound, blindfolded and, more importantly, NOT in the driver's seat.

"Are we there, yet?" he asked his captor.

"No questions," the disembodied voice replied, "Or we'll gag you too."

Booth groaned and leaned back against the seat, "You know, Bones, this still is the Company's car. I should be the only one driving it."

"Give it up, Dad," came Parker's voice from behind him, "you know she's more stubborn than you are."

"Smarmy teenager," Booth grumbled.

A pair of giggles sounded from the backseat with Parker. Booth sighed dramatically, then tried to take his son's advice by concentrating on something else. Today was his birthday, and while he had planned on having a nice, relaxing day with his family, they obviously had different plans for him.

His family- he grinned at the thought. From the moment Rebecca had informed him that he would be a father, Booth had yearned for a family. Of course, things had not gone exactly as he had planned and Rebecca had refused his proposal and held Parker at an arm's distance from him for years. But the seed of hope had been planted, he just had to wait for the right woman to come along.

He certainly never thought that the "right" woman, would come wearing a lab coat and complete with a PhD and her own personal "Squint Squad". The previous agents the Bureau had sent out had warned him about her before he'd ever stepped foot in her lab. Beautiful, yes, they said, but only if you can tolerate the personality- cold as ice, and as nerdy and out of touch as they come. At the time his initial assessment of her was not far off of theirs, but he recognized that, while she could use some time polishing her people skills, she was extremely good at what she did. Booth was in the game to put the bad guys away and Dr. Temperance Brennan could help him with that.

So first came love, then came marriage, then came- well, a huge blowout on how Dr. Temperance Brennan-Booth was not about to let her husband impregnate her and bring a child into the world. Knowing that his stubborn wife would not compromise her beliefs on the subject, and admitting that their marriage was not all about his desires, he had suggested that they open their home, and their hearts, to foster children. Bones had agreed to the idea, though was dubious as to how it would mesh with their career-oriented lifestyle. And so the journey began.

Their first opportunity to foster came just after they had convicted their 107th criminal. This meant that Booth and Bones had achieved their goal of putting as many bad guys away as he had killed while a sniper. The day they filed the paperwork, Director Cullen had called Booth in for a meeting, informed him that he was stepping down as director, and that he had recommended Booth to fill the position. After a lengthy discussion over mac n' cheese, the Booths had decided that this was a good next step for them to take. They also decided that they were ready to become foster parents, so Bones would leave her position at the Jeffersonian and stay home. She would, however, continue writing novels, and would be available for consults when needed by the Jeffersonian.

Over the past seven years, their family had grown and shrunk only to grow again, as their first wave of foster children came and then aged out of the system. In the beginning, they had decided to only take in children 15 and older and provide a stable, loving environment until they became emancipated. This gave Bones the opportunity to consult with the Jeffersonian on a part-time basis while the kids were at school. Too, she knew what it felt like to be an older teenager in the system, and she felt she had a lot to offer them. Booth was fairly sure that the eight teenage girls they had taken in over their first six years as foster parents were directly proportional to the number of gray hairs that now peppered his scalp, but he'd enjoyed every minute of it. And Bones, it turned out, was a natural at mothering teenage girls. She let them know beyond a shadow of a doubt that they were loved, but had also enforced a strict behavioral code that they were expected to adhere to.

Parker- could it be possible that Parker was sixteen already?- had also enjoyed the company of his foster sisters over the years. Right now Booth could hear his son whispering conspiratorially with the twins, Jenny and Julie. The girls were the first of the new wave of foster children that the Booths had taken in. They had run away from their previous foster family on hearing that they would be separated, and when their social worker had finally tracked them down, he had called Booth to see if the couple would be willing to take the two twelve year olds in. That was last year, and the girls seemed to be adjusting well, though they had needed a firm hand and a lot of love when they first arrived.

A squeal of pure joy emanated from the backseat and Booth smiled. In a normal family, a couple's children started young and got older as time progressed. In the Booth family, however, they had started by taking in older children, and were now raising younger ones. The owner of the squeal Booth heard was Jacob, the newest member of the Booth clan. The little one year old boy had been with them since he was four months old. Booth had been involved in the meth-lab sting in which Jacob's parents had been arrested. Booth could still hear the infant's screams as he, and his SWAT team task force had rushed the house and rounded up the adults. Jacob's parents had fled, leaving their infant son in the middle of the floor, surrounded by meth. Booth had taken the boy home with him that night and, when the meth-heads had decided to terminate their parental rights, he had pleaded with Bones to let them adopt Jacob as their own. As it turned out, it hadn't taken much pleading, and she had wholeheartedly agreed, admitting that she too had fallen in love with the infant. The papers were filed and they were waiting for them to clear. Unbeknownst to his wife, Booth had put out feelers to see if the twins could be adopted as well.

"We're here!" Julie yelled, piercing Booth's eardrums with a scream that would make Angela proud, and bringing him crashing back to the present.

"That would be great," he piped up, "If I knew where here was, which I would know _if_ I had been allowed to drive."

"Ah, but you wouldn't have known where to drive to," Bones chimed in, "And if we had told you than that would've ruined the surprise."

Instructing their patriarch to remain in the car, the Booth clan unloaded and dragged him out. The girls each took one arm and Parker made sure his dad didn't fall on them. He could hear Jacob toddling along with Bones bringing up the rear. Suddenly, the girls stopped and turned him around to face the direction that they had just come from. Parker removed the blindfold in one smooth motion.

Booth blinked, the sunlight blinding him after being kept in the dark or so long. When his vision cleared he saw a sign that read "British America". He gave his wife a confused look.

"Um, Bones, hate to break it to you but there is no such place as 'British America'. British Isles, yes, British Columbia, yes, but no British America."

She seemed to revel in his confusion, "Don't you remember, Booth? You told me that you were that patriotic that, if you had been around during the Colonial Revolution, we'd all still be British."

His brow furrowed as he tried to remember exactly when he'd said that, then nodded, "So what's the sign got to do with it?"

"Turn around."

He did, and his jaw dropped. Before him stood a large, colonial-era log cabin with a wrap-around deck that had been decorated with red, white and blue streamers. A banner had been strung between two trees beside the cabin and read, "Happy Birthday, Daddy!". The cabin bordered a small lake, complete with a dock. Tied to the dock was a fishing boat laden with all the tackle he could ever want.

"Happy birthday Booth," Bones whispered in his ear as the kids rushed the cabin, "It's your own personal kingdom."

He stared at her, "You bought this?"

She shrugged, "This and the surrounding sixty acres. It was going to be developed into an upscale neighborhood, and I couldn't bear the thought of them ruining such a beautiful ecology, so I bought it. The cabin was your idea."

Still a bit stunned that his wife had purchased sixty acres of land behind his back, Booth followed his family up the path and into the cabin. It was only when he walked through the front door and saw the fully furnished room complete with big-screen TV that her last comment sunk in. Ten years ago, in the back of his SUV, he had described this very cabin to her.

"You remembered!" he breathed.

Bones nodded, pressing a familiar pacifier into his hand, "You remember daffodils and daisies, I remember your cabin speech."

"Thought you bought a bridge with all of your money."

"Well I did buy the bridge, but it's not like I've been sitting around twiddling my thumbs all these years," she countered, then grinned up at him. "I am a best-selling author, you know. I'm rich."

"Ego-maniac."

"Alpha-male."

"You didn't have to do this, you know."

"I know."

"Thanks, Bones."

"You are welcome, Booth. Though I do have one other small surprise for you."

Booth turned as the door opened. A little boy no more than ten came flying through the cabin and wrapped his arms around the couple.

"Auntie Bones! Uncle Booth!"

"Andy!" Booth scooped the little boy into his arms and enveloped him in a hug, amazed that 'their boy' had grown so much.

"Now we all have a place to gather and relax," Bones declared.

"Bones, you're the best wife a man could ever ask for," Booth pecked her on the cheek, "Thank you so much for my birthday presents."

"Again, you are welcome Booth. And of course I am the best, and so are you. You know I wouldn't associate with you if you weren't," his wife smirked, feeling she had the upper hand.

"Bones," he leaned in close, breathing hotly down her neck.

"Yes Booth."

"Shut up," he said huskily, then slipped the pacifier into her mouth as she raised her lips to kiss him.

Andy and the three eldest Booth children broke out in peals of laughter and little Jacob added his squeals to the mix too. He might never accrue as much money in his lifetime as his wife, but Seeley Booth was a rich man. Rich in laughter, rich in family, and rich in love.


	6. For Poorer

For Poorer

"Hey Bones," Seeley Booth greeted his wife, dropping a kiss on her forehead before settling on the couch in her office, "You almost done here?"

Dr. Temperance Brennan-Booth looked up, shook her head and went back to her work. Booth craned his neck to get a look at what she was working on but to no avail. He shrugged, then went over to one of her bookshelves and pulled out one of his comic books that he had learned to stash there for nights when she worked late, and returned to the couch. Being married to a world-renowned forensic anthropologist meant long hours and late nights. For the most part, he didn't mind, but it was a Friday night, and with their first Christmas as man and wife only two days away, Booth was eager to get her out of the lab and into the holiday spirit.

Five comic books, four sports magazines, three cups of coffee, two orders of Thai food, and one incredibly dry article on human osteology later, Booth felt a tap on his shoulder. Having nearly fallen asleep, he jumped up, hand instinctively going for his side- arm, only to realize that it was Bones who had done the tapping.

"You ready to go?" she asked, as if she had been the one waiting on him.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and mumbled, "What time is it?"

"Nearly three in the morning," she replied matter-of-factly.

"Sheesh, Bones, what have you been doing, cracking the DaVinci Code?"

"I-"

"Don't know what that means," he finished for her, shaking his head as he helped her into her coat. "Seriously, Bones, do you really have to work this hard so close to Christmas?"

They left the office and headed out to the SUV.

"I work hard, and late, throughout most of the year, Booth, not just at this time," she pointed out as they reached the parking garage.

Booth yawned, too tired to argue with her.

"You know Booth," his partner said with a sly grin, "If you are too tired I could always drive. "

"Nice try Bones, but no."

She shrugged and took her seat on the passenger's side, it had been worth a shot at least. She leaned her head back against the headrest, glad to be finished- at least for the next several days. One good thing about Christmas, she supposed, was that it gave her time off from the lab.

"So will you need to go in again tomorrow?" Booth wanted to know.

"Technically, this is tomorrow," she said, eyes half-closed in exhaustion, "But no, I shouldn't be needed until after Christmas."

"Good, 'cause after we catch some z's, you and I are going out and getting into the Christmas spirit! I might even let you unwrap _me_ for Christmas if you are good," he winked at her and waggled his eyebrows, "Because technically, Bones, today is Christmas Eve."

"While I'm not sure how exactly we're supposed to capture the last letter of the alphabet, I am certain that I am not in the mood to get in the 'Christmas spirit', as you call it, though I _may_ unwrap you if you absolutely insist."

"Catching z's means getting some sleep," he explained as they pulled up to their apartment complex, "And do you have to make celebrating Christmas sound as bad as getting a root canal? I mean, at least this year we didn't have to go around sniffing Santa butts, and we're not locked down inside the lab- though personally, I'm not sure I'd mind being locked up with you now. And we are definitely hunting down some more mistletoe!"

But Bones wasn't listening, in fact, she had exited the car and was staring at something just beyond his gaze. He hopped out of the car and stood beside her, following her gaze. Perhaps it was the exhaustion but it took his brain a full minute to comprehend what was happening around them. The lower half of their apartment complex was engulfed in flames, tongues of fire licking out hungrily into the crisp December night.

Around them, fire-fighters rushed to extinguish the blaze as their neighbors streamed from the building like ants, frantically searching amongst themselves for missing family members. Adrenaline shot through Booth like a missile and, forgetting the fact that it was three in the morning, he sprinted over to the fire chief to offer his assistance.

"Sir," I'll have to ask you to stay back from the scene," a fresh-faced volunteer fireman protested.

Booth whipped out his FBI badge and shoved past the young man on his way to the engine. He introduced himself to the chief and asked what he could do to help. The man explained that they had the blaze contained and that it would be out within the next five minutes, however, if Booth was willing to collect statements from the neighbors, he was more than welcome to help. Booth glanced over his shoulder and noticed that Bones, too, had shaken off her initial shock and was assisting the emergency responders in getting the injured people loaded onto ambulances. He took out his field notebook from his breast pocket and set to work gathering statements.

An hour later, the scene was eerily silent as the last of the emergency vehicles left. The complex was a mess of smoldering wood and plastic siding. Smoke still oozed out of gaping, broken windows on the bottom floors, though the top floors seemed to have escaped most of the damage. As he surveyed the wreckage, a small arm slipped around his waist and a head rested on his chest with a sigh.

Bones, her cheeks and white shirt streaked with soot and blood, eyes bloodshot, wrapped herself around his strong frame. Clinging to her as much as she was to him, the couple stood together as if frozen in time.

"It'll be ok, Bones," Booth broke the silence, not sure if he was correct, but wanting to comfort her somehow.

She nodded absently, her tone numb as she replied, "Yes. Our apartment was on the top floor so perhaps some of our things will be salvageable."

He steered her over to one of the decorative benches that lined the walkway up to the building and they sat down.

"Booth," she said quietly, "What do we do now?"

"Well, first, we find someplace to get some sleep," she nodded at the sense in his logic so he continued, "Then we go in and figure out what we have left, I suppose."

"But where are we going to find a place to stay on Christmas Eve?" she wanted to know.

"What about Angela and Hodgins?"

"They've left for Vermont by now."

He grimaced, "Yeah, and Rebecca took off with Captain Fantastic yesterday too. We could put the seat down and camp out in the SUV for tonight I guess. I think I still have a blanket in there from our last stakeout."

Too tired to come up with a better idea, Bones nodded and followed Booth to the car. He made quick work of the seats while she hunted down the blanket. Using their jackets for pillows, they fell asleep just as the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon.

When Booth awoke, he noticed that he was stiff and sore from sleeping in the back of the SUV, and, more importantly, he was alone. He popped the trunk, got out, and stretched his arms to the sky. He smiled when he saw Bones coming toward him with coffee and donuts and moved to intercept her.

"You're the best," he said, giving her a quick kiss, then relieving her of his portion of the food and coffee.

She nodded, "Fortunately there are a few places opened today so I managed to get us some food. I also spoke with the fire chief this morning and he said we should be able to inspect our apartment within the next twenty-four hours. He said his men will have to make sure the structure is sound enough before we go in, but he would try and expedite the process."

They enjoyed their breakfast in companionable silence.

"I'm sorry," Bones said finally.

"For what Bones, it's not like you started the fire."

She shook her head, "No, I mean I'm sorry because I know how much you were looking forward to us celebrating Christmas this year," her blue eyes were sad and they pierced his heart, "And I'm sorry for not wanting to share that with you, and for forcing you to stay out with me so late last night. I- I really wanted us to have a good Christmas too, Booth. I thought that maybe this year would be different."

Booth placed a gentle finger on her lips, "Shhh, it's alright, Bones. It will be alright."

She pulled back, "It is NOT alright Booth. It's Christmas, your favorite time of year and we have no apartment, no clothes. We have no way of knowing whether we have any of our belongings and no place to stay in the meantime. We also have no cash left and none of the banks are open until this stupid holiday is over, therefore we have no means of procuring food or shelter for the next two days!"

"At least we don't have to sniff Santa butts," Booth tried to lighten the mood.

He received a well-placed punch to the solar plexus for his trouble and tried valiantly not to double over in pain. At least, he thought wryly, she hadn't gone for his groin.

"Seriously, Bones," he said when he got his breath back, "We will be okay." He placed his finger on her lips again to silence her retort. "We've got shelter," he pointed to the SUV, "You know we can always go to Sid's for food, and as soon as they give us the go, we'll check out the apartment and see what can be salvaged."

"But our things-"

"Are things, Bones, and things can be replaced if need be. The important thing is that we are both safe and sound. You can't go to Wal-Mart to replace people, Bones. People are the important thing. And don't feel bad about keeping me out late last night, otherwise I might have been in the building when it went up."

He felt her shudder at the thought and pulled her closer to him, deciding that he had made his point and that it was time to comfort her, not lecture her. Suddenly, her chest started shaking and he feared she was sobbing. Instead, when he looked down, he saw her laughing uncontrollably.

_Great,_ he thought, _she's finally snapped_.

"B-booth," she laughed, "Do you realize the incredible irony here?"

He shook his head, "I'm not sure I even recognize you, Dear."

She shoved him playfully, her laughter dissolving into giggles, "It's just that here we are, reduced to living in our car for Christmas, and yet we have millions of dollars in the bank that we can't access! It's just too ironic."

Booth thought the irony was lost on him, but he was glad to see her smiling again. Then her words hit him.

"Million_s_, plural?"

"Well yes, Booth. My books have continued to do well, and my investments have had good returns as well."

"Well, yeah, I know they're popular books, but- MILLIONS?! Seriously?"

"Why would I lie to you Booth?" she asked, puzzled that he wouldn't believe her.

"I just- I guess- I mean-," he stammered. "Just how many millions are we talking about?"

She shrugged, "Four or five last time I looked. Plus there is that bridge I own, my salary from the Jeffersonian and yours from the FBI. To be honest, I really haven't bothered to add it all up, Booth. I let the accountant figure all of that out."

Booth sat down on the back part of the SUV, not trusting his legs to support him. They had never really sat down and discussed their finances, and while he knew she'd made a good deal of money from her book sales, he had not realized just how much money they had. He smiled, then chuckled, and together they sat and enjoyed the irony.

"We must be the poorest millionaires in the world," he joked, "Being homeless and all."

She nodded, "That's us."

That afternoon, the Booths discovered that, while uninhabitable, their apartment had largely escaped destruction. Some of their nicer clothes had been ruined by the smoke- Booth was saddened that the Roxie dress was among the casualties, but their pictures had been spared, along with most of their every-day clothes. Even Jasper and Brainy Smurf had escaped the blaze unscathed, as had Booth's vinyl collection and the video containing Christine Brennan's last message to her daughter. They spent Christmas Eve collecting the most important of their possessions and storing them at Sid's apartment above Wong Foos.

As Christmas day dawned on Washington D.C., a forensic anthropologist and an FBI agent awoke in the back of their SUV, homeless millionaires. They exchanged presents- a gold necklace for her with a skeleton charm hanging from it and a card that said "I dig my Bones", and several new pairs of flashy socks with cartoon characters for him along with a gift certificate to an electronics store he frequented regularly. The card with his gift certificate read 'Pick out a big-screen television with this and try not to short out the electronics with your drool.'

"Ready to go house hunting today, Bones?"

"I doubt any real estate agents would be available Christmas day."

"Yeah, I guess not, but we could drive around and see if anything catches our eye."

"Might as well, we don't have anywhere else to go." She smiled, "Hey Booth?"

"Yeah Bones?"

"I'm glad I didn't lose you in the fire."

"Same here."

"Booth?"

"Yeah, Bones?"

"Merry Christmas, Booth. I love you."

"I love you too, Bones. Merry Christmas."


	7. In Sickness

In Sickness

Monday, 6:00 A.M.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Seeley Booth groaned and swatted his arm in the general direction of the offensive noise; his head was killing him. He succeeded in knocking the alarm clock off of the bedside table, however it continued beeping; albeit muffled by the carpet. His head was still pounding. He swore.

"Mommy says we're not 'uppost to use that word, Daddy," a young voice declared from the open bedroom door.

Four year-old Jacob Booth launched himself onto the bed. Booth whimpered in agony as his son's knee connected with his midsection. Great, now his head and his groin were hurting. Then his stomach lurched and, moving Jacob quickly aside and rushing into the bathroom, he let loose the contents of his stomach. He almost made it to the toilet.

"Are you okay, Daddy?" Jacob asked, poking his head into the bathroom. "Eww! Gross!" he exclaimed on seeing the floor.

"Go get your mom for me, Buddy, will ya?" Booth gasped, clinging to the shower stall for support.

The little boy nodded his head, stepped out of the bathroom, and in a loud voice that made Booth's ears ring and his head pound harder than it already was, bellowed, "MOM!!"

"Jacob Gabriel Booth," Dr. Temperance Brennan-Booth chided her son as she strode into the bedroom, "What have I told you about volume control inside of the house?"

"Daddy puked," Jacob offered in his defense, pointing first to Booth, then the mess on the floor.

Booth felt his stomach lurch again and moved quickly to the toilet. This time, he made it, though the success did not make him feel any better.

"I think I'm dying, Bones," he moaned, clutching his stomach.

Bones shook her head, "That's highly unlikely Booth. It's most likely influenza, though it could be gastroenteritis, or gastritis, or perhaps-"

"I'm pretty sure this has nothing to do with gas, Bones," Booth gasped.

"Booth, gastroenteritis is an inflammation of the gastrointestinal tract and has nothing at all to do with flatulence," she frowned as she began cleaning up the mess on the floor, "Although, if you wish I could send a sample of your vomit to Hodgins to determine whether food poisoning is involved. Either way, it shouldn't last more than twenty-four hours."

At the word 'vomit', the remaining contents of Booth's stomach spewed across the bathroom floor.

"So glad I married a doctor to tell me these things," he managed, reaching out to her for support. "Now can you fix it so I don't die?"

"Booth," she helped lower him onto the side of the roman bathtub and began stripping him down, "I think you need a bath. And as I said before, your condition is not terminal."

"So you can't fix it?"

"Booth, I have a PhD, not and MD, and most likely your infection is viral, rather than bacterial, in which case even an MD could not, as you say, 'fix it'" she turned to Jacob, who was still standing in the bathroom doorway, "Why don't you go get the girls up for school, Jake?"

The little boy eyed her dubiously, "Is Daddy really going to die Mommy?"

"See what you've done, Booth?" she was getting annoyed quickly, "No, Sweetie, Daddy's not going to die, he's just sick to his stomach. Now go tell your sisters to get ready for school."

"Okay," he dashed down the hall, yelling their names.

The doctor returned her attention to her patient, who was stripping off his boxers and attempting to climb into the tub. _It is just wrong that he can turn me on even when he is sick_, she thought, then helped him steady and lower himself into the tub. She turned on the water, making sure the temperature would not aggravate his low-grade fever.

"Do you need anything else?"

"A new stomach."

"Sorry, all out," she smiled down at him, "Now look, here is a trashcan for you. Should you feel the need to-" his eyes pleaded with her not to use the word 'vomit' again, and she amended herself, "well, you know, just aim for this and not the floor, alright?"

He nodded limply and slunk his body as far down in the water as it would go without submerging his head. As Booth lay in the tub, Temperance quickly and efficiently cleaned up the mess on the bathroom floor. Satisfied that she could do nothing else for Booth at the moment, she went to check on Julie, Jenny and Jacob.

When Bones arrived in the kitchen, she assessed that Jacob had indeed managed to rouse his sixteen year-old twin sisters out of bed, and had even managed to get them to make him breakfast and help him get dressed. Nineteen year-old Parker, who had moved in with his dad and "Dr. Bones" the day he turned eighteen, was also awake and had tucked himself in the breakfast nook with one of his college textbooks and a bowl of cereal.

"Hey Mom," Julie smiled, "Jake said something about Dad puking his guts out?"

She nodded, "It's most likely a twenty-four hour virus."

"Can we not discuss bodily fluids at the table please?" Jenny piped up from beside Parker, "Some of us want to enjoy our breakfasts."

"Parker, would you be able to drop Jake off at pre-school and pick him up for me later on today?" Bone inquired, "Your father is convinced he's dying, so I think it'd be best if I stayed with him."

"Your wish is my command, oh Evil Stepmother," his very Booth-like eyes teased as he stood up, put his bowel in the sink and pecked her on the cheek. "You ready, Kiddo?"

The next twenty minutes were a flurry of activity as backpacks, books, homework and lunches were collected. Bones herded them out the front door, feeling more like the ringmaster at a three-ring circus than a world-famous forensic anthropologist, and set on cleaning up the mini-hurricane of a mess they had left in their wake. She sighed, remembering all of the foster children that had traipsed in and out of their house over the years. At one point there had been eight teenage girls living under their roof- though that number had ebbed as the girls aged out of the foster system.

A part of her had enjoyed being in control of the chaos that fostering teenage girls had brought, but another part was extremely content with the consistency that had come when they had decided to adopt the twins and Jacob. Bones knew too, that her husband could not have been happier than the day Parker announced he was moving in. A wail from the upstairs bathroom brought her back to the present, and she set off up the stairs.

oooOOooo00ooo

"Booth, what are you doing?" she shook her head at the sight of her husband, stark naked and staggering toward their bed.

"Trying to get back to bed," he stopped and sat down on the floor, unable to go any further.

Tiny rivulets of water from his bath meandered down his chest and dropped onto the carpet. Beads of perspiration dotted his forehead, and she could tell his skin was flushed. She grabbed a clean pair of boxers from his dresser and helped him into them and back into bed.

"Thanks, Bones," he slurred, "Sorry 'bout the mess."

She kissed his forehead, which was burning hot as she had suspected, and covered him with a light blanket. Retrieving the trashcan from the bathroom just in case he got nauseous again, she then returned to the bathroom and the mess Booth had apologized for. Water covered every square inch of the tile floor, but she was thankful that no further vomit had been deposited in her absence. She wiped the excess water up with a towel, drained the water in the tub and collapsed on the bed beside Booth. It had been a long morning.

Bones woke up with a start. Something, somewhere was making a noise. Looking around she spied her cell phone dancing across her dresser. She looked over at Booth, who was still sleeping, mouth open wide, and was glad that she had left her phone on vibrate. Scooping up the phone, she darted into their walk-in closet, which Booth had converted into an office for her to write in. When she opened the phone she found a message from Parker.

"Afternoon classes canceled. Will take Jake to the park for a while."

She smiled. Parker was growing up to be just as considerate as his father and she would be thankful for the extra time. She peeked her head out the door at Booth, noting that he was now sprawled completely across the bed and had begun to snore. Closing herself in her office she decided to get some writing in before she was needed again.

Following her daily routine since deciding to leave the Jeffersonian, she booted up her laptop and hopped on the World Wide Web. Ever since Oliver had alerted her to the existence of the "Brennanites"- and since some of them had decided to take their love of her books just a tad too far- she had kept a close eye on them. Some days, they amused her with their "fanfic" and wild theories as to where they thought she would take the characters next. Others days they made her consider never typing another syllable, and made her wonder if they had any kind of social life at all outside of the internet. Anything that seemed creepy to her, she would pass along to Booth, who would make sure that they were watched closely. From time to time she would log on under her own handle(AndysMine) and converse with her fans incognito.

Today, she skimmed a few of the latest spoiler posts- _they are way off there_- and read a few fanfics just for fun. Then she clicked off her browser and immersed herself in Kathy and Andy's world. The characters were still together as a couple, though Bones was not sure that she wanted them to ever tie the knot, feeling that it might spoil the sexual tension that drove so many of her fans mad. For today, at least, they would remain unmarried sexual partners.

Poking her head up to glance at the clock she realized that she had been hard at work for four hours. She decided to check on Booth, grab a quick bite to eat, and decide what to make for dinner. Shutting down her laptop and clicking off the light, she moved over to Booth's bedside.

"How are you feeling?" she asked gently.

"Like I barfed up my guts," he smiled weakly, "I'm all sweaty too."

She felt his head and started helping him unwind himself from the covers, "Your fever is still mid-grade, but it feels a bit lower than this morning."

She checked the trashcan, "And it doesn't appear that your stomach was bothered any further."

"Got rid of it all in the early rounds," he inched himself up to a sitting position, but quickly regretted it as his head began to swim.

"Are you alright, Booth," his wife's voice took on a concerned tone, "Your pallor is not healthy."

"Maybe I should have another bath," he suggested, "That didn't feel too bad."

She nodded and helped him back to the bathroom and out of his clothes. Drawing fresh bathwater, and making sure he was safely immersed in the tub, she knelt down on the floor and began washing him down.

"Feels good Bones," he murmured.

"You know you really should try to eat or drink something," she commented when she had finished washing and rinsing him, "Your electrolytes are probably low from losing bodily fluids and should be replenished so that you don't dehydrate."

"No food," he moaned, "Please."

She shook her head disapprovingly; men were such babies when they were sick, and Booth could be their poster child. She stood up, spotted a possible solution on one of the shelves, and informed Booth that she would return momentarily.

Booth sank deeper into the tub, glad she had not pressed the issue and hoping that she was not on her way to the kitchen to get crackers for him. The last thing he felt like doing was eating right now, especially since the nausea seemed to have disappeared for the moment. He had almost drifted back to sleep when she returned carrying-

"Bones, what are you doing with that?"

"It's simple, Booth," she said, placing his beer helmet on his head, "This device is meant for dispensing liquid. You need liquid."

"It's meant for beer," he complained.

"I've replaced the beer with a hydrating fluid that will help you restore your electrolytes to their proper levels," she offered him the straw, "And this device will allow you to do that with minimal effort."

"Gatorade, Bones?"

"Well, yes. It turns out your sports drink is very high in-"

"I get it," he said, taking the straw from her fingers and putting it in his own mouth. He wasn't a complete invalid, after all.

"There's no need to be brusque about it," she said, planting her hands on her hips.

"Sorry," he offered, speaking around the straw.

"Would you like your table and a graphic novel?" she offered.

"No thanks, Bones," he took the straw out to answer her, "I think I'm ok for now."

She nodded her head, "I need to get dinner started. Just let me know when you are ready to get out of the tub. I don't want you to injure yourself."

Booth agreed and she left him to languish in the tub.

Just as she arrived at the kitchen, Bones heard the familiar sounds of her children returning home. Jacob quickly located her and began filling her in on all of the details of his day at pre-school and then of his exploits with Parker, which included a merry-go-round ride and some ice cream. Parker dipped his head at the scowl she sent him when she heard of the ice cream, but she winked to let him know she wasn't too upset.

The girls arrived in the kitchen not long after their brothers had left and began asking when dinner would be and what it would consist of. She decided that she would let them prepare dinner since they were so inquisitive and left everything in their capable hands.

When she returned upstairs to check on Booth, she found he still in the tub, with Jacob regaling him with the same tales he had shared with her earlier.

"Look at Dad's cool hat, Mom," he said, when he noticed her presence, "Can I get one like it?"

"Maybe when you're older, Buddy," Booth ruffled his son's hair.

Parker stuck his head in the door, "Look like crap, Dad."

"Thanks a lot," he groused, "Just remember, I can still take you, Boy."

"Right," Parker grinned, "I'm sure you can."

"Hey," Booth pointed his finger, "I know where you live."

"Good for you," the teenager waved goodbye and set off to bug his sisters for a taste of dinner, Jake hot on his heels.

"Guess I should get out so I don't start looking like a prune," Booth said once he was alone with his wife.

"Need a towel?" she offered.

"Nah," Booth winced as he stood but managed to steady himself on the wall, "Only Puritans use towels."

"Take a towel Booth," she handed him one, "I've cleaned this floor enough for one day."

They got him back into the bedroom without incident and into fresh clothes.

"Feel like coming down for dinner?" Bones inquired.

"Yeah," Booth said sarcastically, "I'm sure my gastro-whatever would love that."

"I didn't mean you had to eat with us," she corrected, "I just thought you might be tired of staying in bed all day."

"Sure," he agreed.

Booth lasted two hours with his family before deciding to head back to bed. It had been a long day. He did allow Bones to bring him some crackers, though, once he was sure that the Gatorade had settled safely. He fell asleep not long after she left.

Bones divided the rest of her evening cleaning up dishes, making sure that homework was completed, and keeping tabs on Booth. She was thankful that his fever had abated and that the crackers had gone down without upsetting his stomach any further. She felt confident in her initial diagnosis of a twenty-four hour flu. After bathing Jacob and putting him to bed, she collapsed on the bed beside her husband, exhausted, and fell asleep within minutes.

Tuesday, 6:00 AM

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Booth awakened, stretched and turned off his alarm clock. He felt refreshed after a good night's sleep and the nausea had completely faded. His stomach rumbled and he felt hungry for the first time in twenty-four hours. He supposed Bones had been right after all. He turned to wake her.

"Bones," he gently shook her, "Com'on, Lazy Bones, time to get up."

She groaned, turning over, "I think I am going to vomit, Booth."

And she did.

"Don't worry, Bones," Booth grinned, "I'm sure it's just a twenty-four hour bug."

"Booth?" she said weakly.

"Yes, Bones?"

"Shut up."

"I love you too, Bones."


	8. In Health

In Health

Dr. Temperance Brennan-Booth kissed her husband goodbye, got her children ready and off to school, helped Parker study for his college biology mid-term until it was time for him to leave for class, and collapsed onto the couch. Despite the flawless sky and bright sunshine outside, she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Last week she had spent her Monday cleaning up vomit- Booth's vomit. It was only a twenty-four hour bug. Not a problem for her, considering she'd spent the greater part of her career sifting through human remains. The problem, however, had come the next morning when she had woken up nauseated. Booth had assumed that she too had the bug and had graciously taken the day off to care for her.

But now, more than a week later, she was still waking up queasy- a fact that she had hidden from her husband and family. Given the nausea, daytime fatigue, and the fact that her ilea had started shifting to widen her birth canal, there was only one conclusion for her to draw- she was pregnant.

Most women, she supposed, would be overjoyed at this prospect- she was not most women. She was Temperance Brennan-Booth. Booth, she groaned, sinking further into the couch and fingering the gold skeleton necklace he'd given to her on their first Christmas. Booth would be the one who was thrilled. It would not bother him at all that they were far too close to fifty to be the parents of an infant. Nor would it occur to him that the risk of miscarriage, birth defects, and the possibility of twins rose exponentially with the age of the mother. He would not fear that the child would grow up to be a victim of any number of the senseless crimes they had investigated over the years. It would never enter his mind that the child might grow up to be a criminal, either.

No, Booth would point to Parker, or Jenny, or Julie, or any of the eight foster daughters that had passed through their home over the years. He would argue, and rightly so, that none of them had ended up either victims or criminals. She could hear his voice in her head; picture the excitement in his eyes when he found out. He'd be like a little boy at Christmas, she knew. He was not against bringing more children into the world. She was.

It was the first thing that they had ever truly fought about early on in their marriage, and was the reason they had chosen foster parenting and adoption over having children of their own. The choice had been a compromise for Booth, she knew, and she had loved him all the more for it. Now... Now she would make him happy, and in the same breath bring a harsh reality crashing down upon herself. How could she, an educated doctor with a genius-level IQ, have allowed this to happen?

Sighing, she slipped in her DVD copy of "Pride and Prejudice". As it was a six hour movie, it virtually covered the entire book and therefore was one of Brennan's favorites and her "go-to" when she needed to distract herself from thinking about an issue. Angela said she enjoyed the irony of Brennan's favorite movie being about two people who were too stubborn to give the other one a chance. She also said that Mr. Collins reminded her of Sully, but Bones didn't see the connection.

Six hours and a bowl of popcorn later, Deputy Director Seeley Booth found his wife asleep on the couch, movie credits blaring, empty popcorn bowl on the floor. He turned the movie and the TV off, took the bowl to the kitchen sink, lifted his wife gently into his arms, and carried her upstairs to their bed. She stirred when he set her down.

"I'm sorry, Booth," she yawned, "I must've fallen asleep."

"Yup," he nodded, joining her on the bed and meeting her eyes with a gentle smile, "What's wrong?"

"Booth," she cocked her head to one side, trying to keep the truth from her voice, "Why would you think something is wrong?"

"Daffodils, daisies, Jupiter," he counted off her favorite things on his fingers, "I know you, Bones. And every time you sit and watch that movie and eat popcorn, something is wrong."

She dropped her gaze, wishing briefly she had married someone who was not so perceptive.

"Are you still not feeling well?" Booth asked.

She nodded, "But it's more than that."

"Well?"

"It's just that once I tell you, you'll be happy, and I'm just not sure I can be," she tried to explain.

"Bones," he whispered gently, "Don't be afraid, okay? Whatever it is, we'll get through it together."

"That's just the thing, Booth," she sat up throwing her hands in the air, "You think it's something horrible, but it's not, it's just me. I'm the one who thinks it's horrible and maybe I'm a horrible person for that, but I can't help how I feel."

Booth was confused by his wife's uncharacteristic babbling, but reached out for her and held her close.

"Temperance, shhh," he breathed, "It's okay Bones. You're not a horrible _anything_, remember?"

He rocked her back and forth as she sobbed in his arms until she quieted, though she still clung to him as if he were an anchor in her storm.

She looked up at him with a sad smile, "I'm sorry, Booth," she jabbed at her face to wipe away the tears, "Most likely it's the hormones."

"Ah," Booth's eyebrows raised, "Is it that time of the month already?"

She slapped him softly, "No, Booth. It's not likely that 'that time of the month' will come for quite some time now."

"Menopause?" he was grasping at straws, but wanting to help.

She slapped him harder this time, "BOOTH! How old do you think I am?"

He shrugged his shoulders, opened his mouth to comment, then closed it again not wanting to be slapped a third time.

Bones cleared her voice, wiped the remaining tear from her eye and admitted softly, "I'm pregnant."

Understanding hit Booth like a Mac truck! No wonder she had been so hesitant to tell him what the 'problem' was.

"Bones," he cupped her chin is his hand so she was looking him in the eye again, "I love you. And I'm sorry."

"Sorry?"

"I know you Bones."

She nodded.

"And because I know you, I know, that you are having problems coming to grips with the fact that you are pregnant and you never wanted me to- what was your phrase?- _impregnate_ you," this ilicited a small smile from her so he continued, "But you are already a great mother, Bones" he stayed her protests with a finger with one hand and stroked her abdomen with the other, "You don't have to carry a child for nine months to love them, we've proven that. And I know that this is probably the last thing in the world that you want, but give it time, Bones, give it time."

They sat on the bed incompanionablesilence.

"You're happy, aren't you Booth?" her tone was not accusatory.

"Yeah," he cracked a half-grin, still trying to be sensitive, "But you are not?"

"I don't know, Booth," she moved out of his arms, trying to clear her head, "Ten years ago, I would've said no, but now," words failed her, "Now I just don't know.

"I love Jake," she tried to explain to him as much to herself, "And Julie and Jenny, and Parker, and all of our girls. I love them more than I ever thought I could love anyone. But they needed me. Their parents discarded them, or died, or whatever, and they needed me- needed us, Booth. So what is so wrong with me that I am afraid to love my own child?"

"Because you aren't in control," he said gently, "You've been able to choose who you let in. This little one," he pointed to her belly, "You didn't choose, so it's scary for you because you don't have control over who they are or whether you can handle their personality."

She nodded, chagrined that he was correct; again, "What if they hate me Booth? What if they run away from home and leave us?" Her voice was barely a whisper, "What if they betray me like Zach?"

Seeley Booth gathered his wife into his arms and held her for a long moment before answering.

"Then we will love them. Like we love all of our other kids; like we love Zach; like you love Max and Russ and your mom."

"Is love that powerful?"

"It is. Life isn't anything without love, Bones, and we've proven that we have plenty of love to go around."

"We're too old for this Booth," the fear was moving away, just like it always did when Booth was around, and she was turning to face reality.

"Eh, why let the young ones have all the fun," a charm smile blossomed on his face, "Besides, you know what this means, Bones?"

"I'm afraid to ask, but what?"

"I've still got the magic, Baby! I am a verile, healthy man!"

She slapped him a third time, then kissed him with all of the passion she possessed.

"It takes two to Limbo, Booth," she muttered against his mouth.

"Tango, my love, 'two to tango'."


	9. To Love

To Love

Dr. Temperance Brennan-Booth frowned at her bulging mid-section and sighed. She was definitely too old to be doing this for the first time, she thought wryly. Around her, the rest of the Booth clan scurried around the house just like it was any other Saturday morning.

Seventeen year-old twins Jenny and Julie had shooed her out of the kitchen and refused to let her help clean up the mess from breakfast. She could hear twenty year-old Parker assisting his five year-old brother Jake upstairs with the vacuum. Booth, meanwhile, was out front mowing the lawn.

"Booth!" she complained as her husband came in the front door to check on her, "This is ridiculous! I'm not an invalid, you know."

"You _are_ a week past your due date, however," he pointed out, planting a sweaty kiss on her cheek, "Even you should see the logic in letting the rest of us do the heavy work around here." He tapped her nose, "You're the Doctor, Bones."

She glared at him and repositioned herself on the couch, wondering not for the first time how Angela had survived ten pregnancies. She and Jack must be nuts.

"Here," Booth broke her train of thought, proffering an old photo album, "You can pass the time by reliving our glory days." He waggled his eyebrows at her and grinned, "Feel free to ogle my hot, young FBI-agent body!"

"Special Agent," the correction slipped out before she realized it.

"Yup," the grin was bigger than ever now, "That was me- Special Agent Seeley Booth! Try not to get jealous, though, Bone- there are pictures of my equally hot partner in there too."

She swatted him arm and said dryly, "I'll try my best. Now get back to work, Booth, before your ego explodes."

"Yes Ma'am," he offered a mock salute and turned toward the steps, "Private Jake!"

"Yes, General?" Jake peeked his head out of one of the bedrooms.

"How goes the Dust Bunny War?"

"We're sucking them up and moving them out, Daddy," Jake giggled, enjoying the game.

"Alright then," Booth saluted him, "Back to work!"

"Aye-aye, Sir," the little Private returned the salute and dashed back into the room.

Bones laughed, enjoying watching her "men" take care of her. From the inside she felt a hard kick.

"You planning on joining us anytime soon, little one," she whispered.

There was no reply, of course, though the kicking continued at full strength. She repositioned herself again and, after another sweaty kiss from Booth before he went to tackle the back yard, opened the album. Booth had been correct that it contained older pictures, and there were papers as well that had been haphazardly deposited over the years. She was not the scrapbooking type.

The first picture that brought a smile to her face was one of she and Booth at a crime scene. They were actually in the background of it because it was a crime scene photo from the Hanover Preparatory Academy, one of the first cases they had worked together. They were standing, not quite side-by-side, looking up at the decomposing corpse hanging from the tree. He'd called her _his_ Forensic Anthropologist that day. Not that she'd appreciated that at the time, but it did stick in her mind; which is probably why she had made a copy of it to keep for herself. She also remembered getting extremely flustered during that case because he kept calling her Bones, and because she had been forced to make a call on Nester's death under pressure. She'd sided with Booth, and prayed his gut was correct. It was, of course, Booth's gut was rarely wrong. It was also around that time that they first went to Wong Foo's.

A few pages later, a paper fluttered down on her lap. It was a newspaper article that had been written profiling each member of the team. They all looked so young, she thought, so confident in the fact that they were making a difference, so sure that no one could touch them. And then Epps had to go and destroy that euphoria with his twisted game. And Booth had drawn a line.

The line. That irksome line that had prevented them from having a relationship beyond partners for years. At first, she had thought that she understood. It did make sense that people in their field dealt in high-risk situations, therefore anyone associated with them was put at risk as well. What had only occurred to her later, when her feelings for Booth had become irrefutable even to herself, was that they _both_ were at risk already and even if they weren't their feelings were so deep it wouldn't matter. She hated psychology, it was true, but even she could see looking back how much they had repressed their emotions because of the line.

She fingered the small object that had been stowed in the album's plastic pocket along with the article, and was transported back in time.

**Over 10 Years Ago….**

Special Agent Seeley Booth and Dr. Temperance Brennan were sitting at the diner for a late lunch after a very disturbing case. The victim, Margret Adkins, was a 33 year-old woman who, they discovered, feared everything and had managed to live her life completely shut up in her apartment. Her only connection with the outside world was her computer, through which she ran a home business. The irony was that she was shot accidentally when her neighbor below her had decided to settle his domestic dispute with his wife using a gun. The wife had been found the day of the shooting when her mother stopped by to check up on her, and had miraculously lived. Margret had not been found until her landlord had come to collect the rent that was past-due; two months later.

"Pie, Bones?" Booth grinned wearily at her.

"Booth-" she had really not been in the mood for his teasing.

"Relax, Bones," he'd soothed, "You know I had to ask."

"And you know that I'd say 'No'," she'd retorted with a small grin.

"Doesn't matter, Bones, I'll always ask," he then had leaned in close and gave her his best charm smile, "Maybe one of these days you won't be able to resist."

"Doubtful."

"We'll see. Everything happens eventually, you know."

"Yes, you've said that before."

"It's true," he insisted.

They sat in silence for a long time; he eating his pie, she nursing her coffee and nibbling his left-over fries.

"You wanna go for a walk, Bones?" he asked when they had finished.

She nodded; neither one of them were ready to be alone yet. They got up, paid the bill, and drove in relative silence to the United States Botanic Garden. They walked the paths, appreciating all of the different flowers that were in bloom. He showed her the Romeo and Juliet roses.

Standing on the bridge overlooking the roses, Booth turned to his partner, "Do you know what the worst part of this case was, Bones?"

She looked at him with curiosity and shook her head.

"Margret, she had a lot going for her- intelligence, good looks. But she kept herself hidden in that apartment, Bones, because she couldn't- or wouldn't- face her fears head on. It may have been Clive Witmer who pulled the trigger, but her fear was what killed her in the end," he shook his head in disgust, "It was fear that kept her from living."

"Fear can be very paralyzing," Brennan agreed.

He willed her eyes to look at him and spoke very deliberately, "I don't want to live like that, Bones."

"Booth," she placed a hand on his arm, "You are one of the least fearful people I know." She smiled softly up at him, "You took a bullet for me."

He nodded, "I'd do it again, you know."

"I know."

He took her arms in his and faced her full on, "But I have been living in fear, Bones. Ever since Howard Epps- no, even before him, I've lived in fear. Fear that I wouldn't be able to protect you. Fear that I would lose you either to some psycho killer or some handsome guy with a sailboat," he held a finger up to halt her protestations, "First, I was afraid I'd lose you, and then I was afraid to love you. Afraid that you might not love a dumb jock turned sniper turned cop like me. Afraid that you did love me and that it would ruin us. I value your friendship above anybody else's, Bones. I love you."

He looked down at her, fighting the fear of what her reaction would be, when he realized that his body was pressed up against her; her forehead nearly touching his own.

And there was a moment.

In that moment, Seeley Booth watched Temperance Brennan take in his declaration of love, and reciprocate it.

"I love you too, Booth," she whispered.

And there in the US Botanic Gardens, beside the Romeo and Juliet roses, they shared their first true kiss.

"Um- ex-excuse me," a pimply-faced security officer stammered, tapping Booth on the shoulder, "The park is closing, sir, you-you'll need to leave now."

Booth reached his hand into his breast pocket and flashed his badge without ever taking his eyes off of Brennan. The guard apologized and beat a hasty retreat up the path.

"Now where were we, Bones?" Booth's voice was husky.

"Right here," she brought her lips up to meet his in an explosion of passion that had been growing steadily for almost four years.

And for once, the universe stood still and let them have their moment.

"Booth," she pulled back softly after several minutes.

"Yeah Bones?" he murmured, brushing her lips with his words, and wrapping his arms around her.

"We really should leave," she pointed to the sky, "It's getting dark."

He nodded reluctantly then, like an anxious teenager, released her from his arms, took hold of her hand, and led her back to his SUV. He opened the door for her and shut her safely inside. He climbed in the driver's seat, unsure of what to do next.

"Booth," Brennan called his name softly, "I need to use the restroom."

His head jerked up and smiled, "One toilet, coming up."

She punched his shoulder.

They drove to the first open drugstore on their way back to her apartment and he poked around while waiting for her to do her business. She found him in the school supply aisle.

"Look what I found," he held up an eraser, "It's a crossbones."

"She looked at him, puzzled, "That is not a crucifix, Booth, it's a skull."

"Yeah, that's what I said," now he was confused, "A crossbones. You know, where the bones make an 'x' below a skull. Please tell me you've heard of a crossbones, Bones."

She laughed, understanding dawning, "I thought you were saying my name. You know, a cross, comma, Bones- capital 'B'," she drew a 'B' in the air with her finger.

He laughed with her, "Guess I'll have to be more careful in the future, then," he paused, "Should I call you Tempe now?"

"Should I call you Seeley?"

He made a face, "I hate that name!"

"Then we'll be who we've always been," she said matter-of-factly, "Booth and his Bones."

He grinned from ear to ear, "I'd like that a lot, Bones."

"So will you marry me, Booth?"

He looked at her to make sure he'd heard her correctly, the grinned slyly, "Well, _Temperance_," he emphasized her given name, "Most women wait for the man to ask that question."

"Well, _Seeley_," she countered him stroke for stroke, "I am not 'most women'."

"And I wouldn't have it any other way," he tapped her nose, eliciting a look of mock disgust.

"So will you marry me?" she asked again, with more earnest.

"Yes," he threw up his hands and rolled his eyes at her, "But well you at least let me buy you the ring?"

"Alpha male," she mumbled, trying hard not to smile.

"Egoist," he shot back and drew her in for a hug and a quick kiss.

"Hey wait," he said, half-serious, "I thought you were the one who didn't believe in marriage."

"You do, though," she explained, "And maybe I don't want to live in fear any longer either. I know I don't want to live alone like Margret."

"I'll never leave you, Bones," he said, all kidding aside.

"I know, Booth, and that__is why I can marry you."

**Present Day**

He'd bought the crossbones eraser, of course, as a sign that "the line" had been erased for good. She'd kept it on her desk at work until the day she left the Jeffersonian. She felt a warmth flow through her as she recalled the day he'd bought the ring and she'd felt its weight for the first time.

Then she noticed that the couch was warm too- and wet. She yelled for Booth.

Twelve hours and way too many pushes later, Hope Joy Booth made her grand appearance. She was healthy and whole and her father couldn't have been prouder. They showed her off to friends and family, then allowed mother and daughter and father some time alone.

Flushed from the labor and delivery, Temperance Booth looked down at her nursing daughter, a perfect blend of she and Booth's genetic features, and finally understood why women chose to bear children.

"Booth," she roused her husband from his nap on the nearby cot.

"Yeah, Bones?" he came over to stand by her bed.

"We did it Booth," she grinned up at him.

"Did what?" not quite sure what she meant.

"We broke the laws of physics, Booth," she nodded her head toward their daughter, "We made love."


	10. To Cherish

To Cherish

Temperance Booth rolled over in bed and slowly opened her eyes. She smiled at the sight of her husband's wide open mouth, from which soft snores were emerging. For years, Booth had vehemently denied that he snored- until she presented him with the audio evidence one morning at breakfast after a particularly loud night. But while she might tease him mercilessly about his snoring, she grown used to the deep cadence over the years and found that she had more trouble falling asleep on nights that he was silent.

Shifting her gaze from his mouth to his bare chest, she let out a small sigh. The scars, old and new, that dotted his chest gave testament to the number of times he had been placed in harm's way; both voluntarily and involuntarily. The scar where Pam's bullet had passed through him always sent shivers down her spine no matter how much time had passed. It reminded her of two of the darkest weeks in her life, when she had believed that the light that was Booth had been extinguished from her life forever. She could never listen to "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" the same way again either.

"Ogling my FBI hotness?" a sleepy voice came from the object of her perusal.

"You wish!" she shot back with a quick smile.

"Hey Bones, feel free," he grinned wide, "I'm all yours, Baby!"

She rolled her eyes, "I should hope so, though given our ages, I'm not so sure that the term 'Baby' could apply to either one of us."

"Speak for yourself," Booth leaped out of bed, but his retort was cut short by a loud cracking in his back. He winced in pain.

"Are you alright, Booth?"

"I'll live," he gritted his teeth to stifle the pain.

She shook her head, "I'll go get the coffee. Should I get you an Ibuprofen as well?"

He grunted and headed into the bathroom. Finishing, he pulled on a shirt and went downstairs, lured by the scent of the French Roast that he knew awaited him. He settled himself into the breakfast nook as Bones poked around the kitchen.

"Sleep well, Bones?"

"Not particularly."

"Why not," he sounded concerned, "Were you worrying about something?"

She shook her head, handed him his cup of coffee, and took her place by his side.

"No, it wasn't worry, it was more like me trying to block out your nocturnal emissions."

Booth choked on the coffee, spewing it across the table. Beside him his wife's eyes gleamed with mischief.

"You," he said when he had caught his breath, "Did that on purpose."

"You can't prove that," she batted her eyelashes innocently, "I frequently misuse well-known words and phrases, you know."

"Yes, but I know you too, Temperance," he waggled a finger playfully at her, "And that was a deliberate attempt to choke me."

She shrugged, and decided to distract him with a kiss. The kiss deepened and the coffee was forgotten.

"You know," Parker strode into the room, "You guys are really getting to old to do that where people might walk in on you."

"If you knock first, then you won't have to worry about that," Booth grinned at his son.

"Well somebody had to come get you guys."

"Parker, we're really not certain-"

"About what, Dr. Bones?" he invoked his childhood name for her, "This is a huge day. We all want to celebrate with you."

"Maybe we want to celebrate alone," the elder Booth pointed out, "It is _our_ anniversary."

"Your fiftieth anniversary," Parker emphasized, "Nobody makes it to fifty years anymore, Dad. It's a big thing! Look, just come for a little bit alright? Visit with your old friends, kiss the grandkids and great-grandbabies, make little speech about how moved you are by the whole thing and then you two can come home."

"Fine," Booth groused, still not keen on the idea of being the center of the attention, "But I am not getting dressed up in some monkey suit for this thing."

"I'll make sure he's presentable," Brennan assured her step-son, "Where do we need to go and when should we be there?"

"Actually," Parker winced, "They're coming here. Should be here in a couple of hours. Well, the main bulk will be. The girls and Jake should be here any minute now." He put his hand up in a very Booth-like manner to stave off their protests. "We figured this way you didn't have to go anywhere. And we kids all wanted to come home anyway. You guys get yourselves ready; we'll handle the rest."

Closing the door to their bedroom Booth let out a long sigh and sank down on the bed.

"We're old," he said to no one in particular.

"We've aged," Bones corrected him, "It is an anthropologic inevitability."

"Can you believe it's been fifty years already, Bones?" he pulled her onto the bed beside him just wanting her to be close.

"Yes and no," she molded her body against his, relishing in the familiarity of it, "My mind can accept that passage of time has occurred, that we have changed, and that our children have grown up to have children of their own. It is the logical procession of things."

She looked up at him, noticed the wrinkles around his eyes from years of invoking his charm smile on her, and others. His hair was thinning and gray and liver spots had crept up around his neck. He'd taken good care of himself over the years and had remained lean, but his skin sagged a bit, and his muscle definition had definitely decreased.

She took his hand and placed in to her chest, "But here, Booth, in my heart, the years have flown by faster than I ever dreamed that they could. Some days I think that we should still be Booth and Bones, out in the field or in my lab at the Jeffersonian, fighting crime and putting away the bad guys. We should still be bickering with each other over pie and French fries at the diner and terrorizing Sweets. Parker should be a tow-headed little boy running around the bases with you coaching his t-ball team, not a nearly sixty year-old man with grandchildren of his own. And Julie and Jenny and Jake and Hope- they're all grown up now with families of their own and I miss them. I miss the sound of their childish laughter ringing through the air. I miss being a part of their everyday lives."

She fell silent and leaned into him again, letting him stroke her hair and soothe away her sadness.

"I love you, Bones," he said, just above a whisper.

"And I cherish you," she returned.

"Cherish?"

"Yes, Booth. To cherish means to care for something or someone deeply and with tenderness and love. It can also mean to nurture."

His eyebrows waggled knowingly, "Does that mean you'll help me take a shower? You know, to care for me," a grin broke out on his face, "I'll let you do it with tenderness and love too."

"Booth!" she rolled her eyes and got up from the bed, "You do not need me to shower you. And you are still incorrigible where your libido is concerned."

"You better believe it," he said, getting up and herding her toward the bathroom, "No little blue pills for _this_ guy!"

She slapped him playfully on the arm and followed him into the bathroom.

An hour later they re-entered the bedroom washed and refreshed. They could hear that their children had arrived and were beginning preparations for the afternoon festivities. Still wrapped in her towel, Bones tried to decide what to wear for the occasion.

"Too bad the Roxy dress died in the fire," Booth commented when she asked for his opinion.

"I doubt it would still fit me," she countered, "And besides it would hardly be appropriate."

"I wouldn't mind," he grinned, then scowled, "'Least you don't have to wear a suit."

"You look good in a suit," she insisted, "Besides, if you agree I'll let you wear the 'Cocky' codpiece."

"It's a belt buckle Bones, geez, you sound like Gordon Gordon! Now how is _that _an appropriate thing to wear to our fiftieth wedding anniversary party?" he joked, picking out a white dress shirt and trying to decide which of his flashy ties he wanted to wear with it.

She shrugged, "It's not, but I like you in it." She selected a small, fashionable black dress, "What about this?"

"Nah," Booth shook his head, "Never good to wear black to an anniversary event. Makes people think about death."

"I assume you are going to wear some hideously colored pair of socks with your attire as well?" she returned to the closet for another outfit.

"Hey, if I'm going in a suit, I'm doing it _my_ way! Parker can just cope and deal with it."

She laughed, "I think he was expecting a little more resistance this morning."

"Yeah well, I still don't like the idea of people fawning all over us and reminding us how old we really are, but he seemed determined."

"So what had you planned on doing?"

"Well, I thought I'd take my beautiful wife out to whatever restaurant her heart desired, then go out on the town and dance the night away."

"Until you fell asleep on me around nine o'clock, you mean," she teased.

"I do not go to bed that early!" he protested.

"Seeley Booth, you have gone to sleep around nine every night this week. Last night you were asleep at eight-thirty."

"Well Temperance, a guy's gotta get his beauty sleep sometime."

She laughed and asked him to help her fasten the dress she had chosen. It was a pale lavender sleeveless dress that hugged her body and fell all of the way to the floor.

"You look beautiful, Bones," he said on inspection, "Sure you don't want a big bow for the front, though?"

She gave him a puzzled look.

"You know," he reminded her, "At Angela and Hodgin's non-wedding, when you put the bow at the front instead of the back."

She shrugged her shoulders, "I didn't know, but then again, _you_ didn't tell me that I had it on wrong either! Cam did that."

He chuckled at the memory, "I couldn't break it to you. You were so earnest looking." He reached down and tucked a piece of her graying hair behind her ears. "Those were good times, Bones, weren't they?"

"You mean when we were orbiting around each other for so long you could cut the sexual tension with a knife?" she smiled.

"Well," he grinned back, "Yeah there was that too. But I was talking about you and me out there on the front lines solving crimes and bringing down bad guys."

"We did do a lot of that," she acknowledged.

They were almost ready to go, but still not ready to face the crowd, so they sat face to face on the window seat that overlooked the backyard. They could see the preparations that were being made- a garden tent was being set up, as were rows upon rows of chairs, and beautiful flower arrangements were being placed around a large cake.

"Do you miss it?" Booth said finally, turning to look at her.

"Miss what? The past?"

"No-well yes- but more specifically the Jeffersonian. I couldn't believe the day that you told me you were going to step down and stay at home to pursue your writing career."

"It wasn't just to do that," she laid her hand on his thigh, "There were so many other reasons; a big one being that we wanted to be foster parents, which we could not have done well if I had stayed at the Jeffersonian."

"So that's why you left?" she had never really given him an answer that rang true in his gut.

She dipped her head and blushed slightly, "No, it was you."

"Me?"

"Booth, you'd just been made Deputy Director, that meant that we wouldn't be partners-work partners at least- anymore. The lab had not been the same without Zack when he left, and I knew that I just couldn't work there if you weren't there beside me. It just wouldn't have been the same to be assigned another FBI partner. I had one, and I'd married him. I- I just couldn't face not working with you every day."

Booth nodded in understanding and enveloped her in his arms. Of course she wouldn't feel right working with somebody else. He wasn't sure he would have been all that happy about it himself.

"Hey Bones," he whispered in her ear, "Wanna open your present now? Or do we have to wait for the masses to do that?"

"Now's fine," she gave him one last squeeze and stood up to get his gift for him as well.

They came back to the windowsill, gifts in hand, and sat down once more.

"You first," Booth proffered his gift.

"Together," Bones replied, exchanging her gift for his.

"3-2-1," Booth counted down.

Bones opened the long rectangular box and smiled at the contents. A simple gold chain had been strung with five little skeletons, each bearing a birthstone. A slightly larger skeleton had been hung in the middle of the chain.

"It's our family, Bones," he pointed out, "Each of the stones matches their birthdays. The big one's you."

"I figured it had to be one of us," she smiled, "But where are you in this little bones family?"

He pointed to her neck, where the skeleton he had given her for their first Christmas had hung for nearly five decades, "Right there, Bones, where I've been all along. Close to your heart."

A single tear slipped down her cheek and he caught it with his thumb. Together they removed the older necklace, and re-strung the other one so that it hung in it's rightful place beside the other large skeleton in the middle. He helped her put it back on and kissed the back of her neck.

"Hey," she pointed at his unopened gift sitting on the seat between them, "You didn't open your gift along with me."

He offered a shrug and a charm smile and tore into the larger-sized box.

"Socks?" he held up the various pairs of socks with multi-colored patterns.

"Look under the socks, Booth," she explained, "They are just the padding."

He removed the socks and gently pulled out what he found underneath. It was a montage of hand-drawn portraits. He and Bones were in the center, not as they looked now, but as they had looked back when they had been Special Agent Seeley Booth and Dr. Temperance Brennan. In a circle around them were their children, adopted and foster, each captured at different ages. Toward the edge of the canvas at the top were their friends from the Jeffersonian; the Hodgins-Jack and Angela, Cam, Zack, and even Dr. Goodman. At the bottom were smaller portraits of his and Bones' families- Booth's parents and brother, and Max, Christine, and Russ Brennan. A beautiful script at the top read: Family.

"Angela did it," Bones broke into his thoughts.

"We're the center," Booth breathed.

"And the center has held," Bones finished.

"It's beautiful," he said.

"I guess we both had family on our minds," she said, placing the montage between them and moving closer.

"I guess we did."

They shared a kiss. Not one of youthful, lust-filled passion, but one of wisdom and age, of familiarity and comfort; each knowing that they were not only loved, but cherished.

"You know," a voice broke in, "You keep doing that and one of you is going to die of a heart attack."

"You keep walking in on us, Son," Booth addressed Parker, "And I just might have to dig out my gun and scare you away."

"Once again," Parker wasn't impressed at all with Booth's threats, "Someone had to come up and pull you two off of each other long enough to come to your own party."

Booth stood up and offered his wife his elbow, "Ready to go face the music?"

"Only if you'll promise to dance with me," she accepted it, slipping her arm into his as she'd done for so many years now.

And so they partied, and danced, and laughed. It was a good night- and Booth even managed to stay up until almost midnight.

"Happy Anniversary, Bones," he said as they drifted off to sleep.

"Happy Anniversary, Booth."


	11. From This Day Forward

A/N: This chapter ties directly to Identity, another of my fics. Identity is Bren's POV, this is Booth's. Enjoy- Gum

From this Day Forward

Seeley Booth stood at the front of the church. He knew he was probably grinning like a fool, but he didn't care. Today, in just a few short minutes, he would marry Dr. Temperance Brennan, the woman of his dreams. He pulled at the bow tie around his neck, wishing that it wasn't quite so tight.

Beside him were his best man, Jack Hodgins, and his brother, Jared. It only seemed right for Booth to ask Hodgins to be his best man; even if he hadn't really gotten married that first time. Booth had laughed when the two had eloped as soon as Angela's divorce papers were dry. The bug man hadn't disappointed either. Today's slight headache spoke to last night's bachelor party success, complete with Hodgins' lab-distilled alcohol. Jared had been a bit put off when Booth had chosen the bug man over his only brother, but by the end of the night the three men had bonded in the way that only men can.

_Where is she? _

Booth glanced at his watch, shaking his wrist a bit to ease the stress. It wasn't that he was nervous, he was just- anxious. For four years he and Bones had been dancing around each other, their relationship picking up momentum like a rock down a hill. For at least two of those years he had had to restrain himself from pushing their relationship too fast. Now here he was, in a church, on his wedding day, with Bones as his bride.

Jared had given him a hard time about calling his fiancé Bones. Booth had tried to explain, but in the end failed miserably. He'd started calling her that from day one; it just fit. She worked with bones all day after all and was a whiz at reading them. It didn't hurt that he got a little rise out of her when he used the nickname, either. She was cute when she got angry at him. Booth wasn't sure exactly when it stopped being a nickname and became instead a term of endearment. He couldn't imagine calling her Brennan or Tempe; even Temperance was only reserved for times that she was truly upset. No, she was Bones, _his_ Bones.

_Where IS she?_

He checked his watch again. He wasn't sure when the service was supposed to start, but everybody was already here so he hoped it would be soon. Since they had been so cautious for so long, Booth found that his honor bound him to wait until their wedding night to make love to her. She had been hurt at first, and then touched when she realized that he was waiting _because_ he cared for her so much. God knew-Booth had confessed enough times- that he had messed up so many times with so many women. He wanted to do right by Bones from the very beginning. She deserved no less.

Music blared, jarring Booth from his reverie and jerking his head to the door of the sanctuary.

Cam came first, followed by a very pregnant Angela, who winked at Hodgins as she took her place on the stage. Russ' stepdaughters came next, sprinkling flowers down the aisle, and Parker, carefully trying to balance the ring on the pillow, tried to keep up with them. The girls sat with their mom and Russ on the front row, while Parker stood proudly beside his dad.

Finally, the music changed into a wedding march, the crowd rose to their feet, and Brennan appeared in the doorway. Booth's first thought was that she looked stunningly beautiful, her white dress hugging her body in all of the right places and falling to the floor in a whirl of satin and lace. His second was that she looked lost, almost as if she was unsure of what to do next. She held Max's arm in a death grip, though Booth doubted that she registered the older man's presence at all she was so drawn in on herself.

She took a step forward.

_Thatta girl, Bones,_ he urged her with his eyes even though she wasn't looking at him at all, _don't get overwhelmed. I'm right here._

An eternity, then another step.

A look of sadness and pain flashed across her face for a brief second, and Booth wondered which pain she was reliving. Her parents' abandonment? Russ' ? Finding her mother's bones after so many years? She had so many hurts, and he wanted to soothe them each away so that she never hurt again.

Another step.

Was that a smirk he saw? What was she smirking about? He still didn't think that she had seen him yet. It was a good sign though. A sign that she would not let the hurts from her past devour her. She was such a strong woman that way.

Two more steps.

She lifted her head up and was so close he could touch her now.

"Who gives this woman today?" the priest asked.

"I do," Max replied and let go of her hand.

Booth could tell that Bones was still lost in whatever thought she had had all of the way down the aisle, especially when she didn't move to stand beside him. _Time to take action_.

"Hey Bones," he said softly so as not to startle her, "You ok?"

"Yes," she nodded, looking him in the eye as if seeing him for the first time, "I am. Let's get this road on the show."

He grinned down at her, catching her elbow in his arm, "That's 'show on the road', Bones, but I couldn't agree more!"

They managed to get through the rest of the ceremony without a hitch. Booth spoke his vows with the utmost sincerity, knowing that he would uphold them for as long as it was within his power to do so. He loved her so much.

Compared to the eternity that he had felt had passed waiting for her to come down the aisle, the rest of the service was a blur and before he knew it they were at the door greeting their guests. There were handshakes, slaps on the back, jokes from those who had won their respective work pools, and a host of hearty congratulations. When everyone but the wedding party had left, they began posing for pictures. Booth was sure that the photographer would've gone on shooting them for hours, but he could see the annoyance in his new wife's eyes and quietly told the man that they were done.

Next came the reception. The cake stood towering in one corner, a pile of gifts in the other. As the bride and groom entered, the DJ played 'Hot Blooded', causing the bride to blush- and slap her husband's arm hard. He pantomimed the song for her, complete with high leg kick and she shook her head, but laughed along with everyone else. Their first dance was to 'From this Moment'; the father-daughter dance to 'Keep on Tryin'. Booth refrained from shoving the cake in her mouth, then was stunned when she did not, smearing his face with icing and eliciting a laugh from their guests.

As the afternoon wore on, they separated and went to meet and greet all of the people who had come to wish them well. An hour later Booth and Bones' eyes met across the room and he knew it was time for them to leave. He gathered up his new wife, showed her how to throw her flowers to the eager crowd of single girls, and they left.

"Well hello, Mrs. Booth," he grinned.

They had decided to go to her apartment for their first night, and then catch the early flight out to Jamaica in the morning.

"Hello, Mr. Booth," she returned.

They sank onto her couch simultaneously. Within seconds Booth had removed his jacket and tie, and had started to unbutton his shirt too.

"Are we going to have intercourse right here?"

Her bluntness surprised him, until he saw the teasing gleam in her eyes.

"I hate suits," he grumbled, "They're uncomfortable and make me feel like a stuffed monkey."

"While I do not know what that means," Bones said with a grin, "I do think that you looked very handsome in you 'monkey suit' today."

Booth kicked off his shoes revealing the yellow and black striped socks beneath them and kissed his wife.

"You didn't look so bad yourself, you know," he kissed her again, "I think every guy there today wishes he were me tonight."

"Except my father and Russ," Brennan corrected, "I doubt their thoughts strayed in that direction."

Booth threw back his head and laughed at the thought, "Yeah, Bones, except for them."

"Booth, would you help me unfasten the back of my dress? It's very uncomfortable."

"Sure Bones, scoot over here," he patted the couch cushion and set to work on the buttons, "No wonder you needed help, these things are almost impossible!"

"I wouldn't know," Bones shrugged her shoulders, "Angela fastened them for me."

"Yeah well, be glad she did, because this is no easy task," he grunted, finally releasing the last of the clasps.

She stood up and the dress fell off revealing a silky white shift that cut off around her knees.

"Bones!" Booth's voice took on a husky, excited quality, "Now _that_ is hot!"

She twirled around, modeling it for him, "You think? Ange picked it out, of course."

He stood up and halted her twirl, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her deeply. She groaned, and pulled back long enough to take his shirt off over his head. Arms intertwined and tongues battled for dominance as the two let loose on each other. His hands moved up and down, alternating between cupping her face and tracing her curves. Hers stroked his back and ran through his hair.

His pants fell next, her deft fingers making quick work of the fastenings. He stepped out of them, scooped his bride up into his arms, whisked her back to the bedroom, and set her on the bed as if she were made of fine china.

"Oh!" Bones said, remembering something suddenly and reaching over to an object that lay on her nightstand, "Angela said we might need this as well."

Booth laughed when he saw it, but obligingly left the bedroom, opened the front door to her apartment and hung it on the doorknob.

Then he went back to his Bones, to his wife, to their new life together; leaving the "Do Not Disturb" sign to stand guard over them.


	12. Til Death Do Us Part

'Til Death Do Us Part

He had promised that he would never leave her. Not like her mother or father. Not like the teen-aged Russ. Definitely not like Sully or Zack. Booth was her anchor- he would never betray her, never leave her. They were the center- first at the Jeffersonian, then in their home as their family grew. Seasons changed, years passed, the decades. And the center had held.

It had held through her father's murder trial, through Zack's betrayal. It had held when they returned late from work one night before Christmas to find their apartment complex ablaze. It had held through the chaos that was their existence when they had decided to take in eight older foster girls who just needed a safe, loving harbor in the tumultuous sea of life. It had held when they had adopted baby Jake, and later twin teenagers Julie and Jenny. It had held when she'd found herself pregnant after forty; had only strengthened when they held their little Hope for the first time. For over fifty years they had been the center- and the center had held. Until now.

Cancer was such an ugly word. As a scientist she had known what the diagnosis of cancer meant. Had understood that what had developed silently in one area had quickly spread, unchecked, throughout the body. They had been told to go home and enjoy what little time remained. At their age, she knew, any treatment would just serve to delay the inevitable, or see to it that a cold brought death rather than the cancer. And so they had gone home. Laying in the dark, unable to sleep, she wondered what Booth was feeling.

He had promised that he would never abandon her. Of all of the words he had vowed so many years ago, the vow to never leave until death had meant the most. Bones had once told him that she could set aside her personal feelings on the institution of marriage because she trusted him when he said he would never leave her. Now cancer was going to tear them apart.

Was he selfish to want to hold on just a little longer? After they'd had so many years of laughter and love? People went into marriage for the 'from this day forward', rarely thinking about the ''til death do us part'.

It was driving Booth crazy, the inability to do anything- to somehow find the solution and save the day. He was also frustrated with his frustrations. He had been a soldier, had faced death on a daily basis for years and been able to cope with it without feeling so impotent. So why did his emotional resolve waver now? Perhaps because it was personal this time.

"Bones," he whispered into the dark. He knew she was awake.

She didn't answer him, but moved as close as she could, pulling his arms around her chest to form a protective cocoon. He clung to her as much as she to him.

"I'd save you if I could," he loosened one of his hands and stroked her hair, "I'd take your place."

"I know, Booth," came the reply, "But you have no ovaries that could become cancerous, and even if you did, you would not want to break your promise."

"I will anyway."

"Booth," she shifted around to face him, "You are not leaving me, I'm leaving you."

"But I can't go with you. I can't make it go away," helplessness seeped into his voice, "I feel like, by not having a way to beat this thing I-I'm abandoning you to it."

"You aren't," she assured him with a kiss.

Silence pervaded as they held each other closely, neither one able to sleep.

"Will you talk to my headstone?" she asked suddenly.

"Every day," he vowed, though he did not particularly want to think about that right now.

"Oh," she murmured, "Every day might get to be a bit morbid."

"I want to."

"Alright, Booth. Thank you."

"Do you still think you won't be able to hear me?"

"You were correct about marriage and children Booth, and about love, so most likely you are correct about God and Heaven as well."

"And Jesus?"

"A Savior, not a zombie."

"Glad we finally got that cleared up, Bones," he chuckled with only slightest tinge of melancholy audible.

"I only have one regret, Booth."

"What's that, Bones?"

"That we wasted four years that we could've had together."

"Bones," he couldn't help but smile, "If we had gotten married that first year some forensic anthropologist somewhere would have had to try and figure out which one of us killed the other one first. We were like oil and water back then. All of those years, we needed them . They gave us a stronger foundation to build our marriage on. Besides, I'm fairly sure that you once told me regrets are useless."

"Probably," she conceded.

They lapsed into silence again, each pondering how far they had moved away from who they had been when they had first met. Their lives since had become so knit together, so opposite of how they had begun their partnership, that Booth found just the thought of her not being there anymore every day caused a slight vacuum in his heart. He shuddered to to think what it would be like once she was gone.

She was younger than him, and now would never live as long as he already had, and it felt- wrong. But, he reasoned, if he would have gone first then she would be the one facing the vacuum of loneliness, and that was a thought he could not bear either. She had experienced enough heartache in one lifetime for him to ever wish more on her. She had carried her cross, now he would carry his and spare her as much pain as he could in the process.

"It will be painful," her voice was so quiet he almost missed it.

Had she been reading his thoughts? Probably not, he realized, more likely she was just trying to handle this the only way that she knew how- as candidly and honestly as possible.

"Bones…" he was not sure he was up for her honesty tonight.

"No, Booth," she insisted, "You need to know. _I_ need you to know."

"OK, Bones," he held her tightly, "Tell me."

"It's ovarian," she started with what he knew already, "Very subtle, very deadly, and it has spread. Right now all that huts is my abdomen and, at times, my lower back. That pain will spread and become more acute. I may hemorrhage, experience constipation or difficulty urinating. Eventually the pain will reach the point where I will require painkillers."

She paused and turned to stroke his cheek lovingly, found his eyes in the darkness and continued.

"This will, more than likely, be harder for you than for me," she was more gentle than clinical now, "Consciousness will come and go, and lucidity will vary based on what painkillers are used. Eventually my organs will fail, and you will need to choose when to let go."

"I don't want to let go ever, Bones," he rasped, tears falling down, grateful for the darkness.

"I know," she sighed, stroking away his tears as they fell, and then moving her cheek closer to mingle her own tears with his.

"You know when I said that everything happens eventually?"

Her cheek nodded against his.

"I wish we could've skipped this part."

"Death is an anthropologic inevitability," she whispered, trying to frame it within the context she knew best.

His tears became sobs, shoulders heaving with grief. He moaned with helplessness and pain, full of loss. She held him, let him touch her, memorize her, love her. Her heart ached too, but more for him and for their children than for herself. Eventually silence descended and they fell asleep in each others' arms to the soft cadence of rain that had begun to fall. I was as if God had understood their pain and wept alongside them.

Within the month, her health began to unravel exactly as she had said it would. Booth was by her side every step of the way. While she was still lucid, they reminisced over old pictures, laughed at old jokes, and cried when they needed the release. They also spent time with their children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren; their lasting legacy. Every night he told her that he loved her, and every night she told him that she loved him as well.

Finally, when the time came, Seeley Booth laid one last, tender kiss on his wife's cheek, closed her eyes- and let go.

There is a cemetery in Maryland, not far outside of Washington, DC. Bones lay neatly ensconced in coffins and adorned with headstones. At one headstone, ringed with daffodils and daisies, an old man sits and talks every day to bones, to _his_ Bones. Every evening just before sunset, his daughter picks him up, the very image of her mother, and takes him home with her. He had promised Bones at the very end that he would not give up on life once she had left. And Seeley Booth is, as he has always been, a man of his word.

I hope you all have enjoyed these little oneshots. Please review, I'd love to know what you think good or bad.

Gum


	13. Epilogue

Ok, I'm currently working on my newest project, "Snapshots on a Season", a direct sequel to "Wedding Vows". It is another series of oneshots, very much in the same vein as "Vows". So far I have 11 of the planned 16 completed so I will start posting one up per day. Hope you all enjoy and thank you for all of the reviews!

Gum


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